


written in the stars

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Astrology, Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Tamamori learns about horoscopes and ends up finding his red thread—or deciding his fate, depending on whom you ask.





	written in the stars

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for cotton candy bingo (astrology).

“Are you reading _Cosmo_?” Fujigaya accuses as Tamamori walks into the room.

“Yes,” Kitayama replies as he flips the page. “And what?”

“You don’t have a sister,” Fujigaya says, swatting Kitayama’s feet off of the couch so he can sit down. “You don’t have a girlfriend. You don’t even _like_ girls.”

“I like girls,” Kitayama protests. “They’re fun to shop with.”

“ _Cosmo_ has good makeup tips,” Senga volunteers.

“Sometimes the articles are interesting,” Yokoo offers.

“So why are _you_ reading it?” Fujigaya asks Kitayama pointedly.

“Horoscopes,” Kitayama answers. “I like to know if I’m going to get laid next month so I know if it’s worth the effort to trim the landscape.”

Tamamori blinks at the metaphor, mildly scarred as he considers walking right back out the door and trying again later. Instead he sits in his usual spot next to Miyata and waits for the meeting to start.

“Seriously?” Nikaido jumps into the conversation. “You rely on a women’s fashion rag to predict your future?”

“The stars don’t lie,” Kitayama says with a straight face.

“There is, like, one-twelfth of the world’s population with the same sign as you,” Nikaido argues. “Does that mean _all_ of you are getting laid next month?”

“Statistics show that more babies are born in the fall due to New Year’s and Valentine’s Day,” Yokoo points out.

“So more than one-twelfth then,” Nikaido amends. “My point still stands. One single horoscope cannot apply to such a large, diverse group of people.”

“Maybe they’re all fucking each other,” Senga suggests. “Like a big Virgo orgy or something.”

“We’d kill each other before we’d get to the good stuff,” Kitayama mutters. “It’s just a preconception, anyway. Purely psychological. If this magazine says I’m going to get laid next month, I’ll actually try. That’s the whole point of it.”

“Wait,” says Yokoo. “You and Miyacchi are just a few days apart, right? Does that mean he’ll get laid next month, too?”

Miyata cringes a little as he’s unwillingly dragged into yet another sex-focused conversation, but Tamamori perks an ear in interest.

“Perfect example!” Nikaido exclaims. “Kitamitsu and Miyacchi are the same sign, but they’re not a thing alike. _Explain_.”

“It’s true,” Kitayama says. “I think I identify more with Libra anyway. My mom says I was actually late, but things like due dates weren’t as precise back then. At any rate, it gives me more of a chance to get laid if I go by the horoscopes of both signs.”

“Or you could, I don’t know, just try to get laid,” Fujigaya says pointedly, then leans over to look at the magazine. “What does it say for Cancer?”

“You’re going to be a whiny bitch and have to work very closely with your gorgeous coworker,” Kitayama pretends to read.

Fujigaya snorts. “Well, as long as he trims the landscape,” he says sarcastically.

Across the room, Nikaido is still huffing indignantly. “Kenpi and Tama-chan also have birthdays in the same week, right?”

“They’re different signs,” Kitayama drones. “Tama-chan is a Pisces and Ken-chan’s an Aries.”

“Tama-chan and I don’t really act the same at all,” Senga says gently, because he’s essentially implying that Tamamori is a lazy ass and thwarting Nikaido’s argument in one fell swoop.

“It’s true,” Tamamori speaks up, looking over at Kitayama curiously. “I’ve never looked into this kind of stuff before. What’s my horoscope?”

“You’re going to fall on your ass,” Kitayama says, then tosses the magazine to Tamamori. “Read it yourself if you want to know.”

Tamamori runs his finger down the page until he sees ‘Pisces’, smiling at the cute logo with the two fish. The horoscope is pretty generic, though Tamamori frowns at “you may have a difficult time at work.” Kitayama may not have been far off the mark after all. But then he sees “a loved one may be feeling down and hiding it—shower them with lots of affection to cheer them up!”

He jumps when he hears Miyata laugh over his shoulder. “’As the weather gets colder, Virgos tend to become more withdrawn. Use this as an opportunity to have some quality alone time with yourself’.”

“Does it actually say that?” Fujigaya chokes out, nearly falling off the couch to race across the room, then drops to the floor in laughter when he sees it for himself. “It may as well just say ‘enjoy your right hand’.”

Miyata just shakes his head and leans back, not really looking at anyone. Tamamori tilts his head in concern, but Miyata glances at him and offers a smile as Fujigaya snatches the magazine and makes a face at his own horoscope.

“I’m claiming Libra for the month,” Kitayama announces. “I think it said something about red hot passion down by the fire.”

“Making a landscaping appointment then?” Yokoo teases.

Kitayama flips open his phone. “Yup.”

The meeting starts then, but Tamamori zones out. He usually zones out during meetings, but this time it’s because he has something particular on his mind. Kitayama’s words about horoscopes being psychological are stuck in his mind. Does it mean that his work will be difficult just because he thinks it’s going to be? Or is he supposed to be more careful now that he has a warning? By the time they’re dismissed for the afternoon, Tamamori wishes he’d never read that damn thing. There’s something to be said about ignorance being bliss.

Still, he’s curious. He does some Googling when he gets home, because the Internet is full of all kinds of useless information, and bookmarks several pages to skim. They all seem to have the same consensus about his personality as a Pisces, and he’s surprised to see that they’re pretty spot-on. Gentle, check. Easygoing, check. Craves comfort and safety, check. Tamamori goes on to read about how the two fish symbolize being pulled in two different directions and stares in awe at his computer, because that’s exactly how he feels basically every day of his life.

After he sees the words “Pisces have many dreams that others find irrational and delusional,” Tamamori is sold. He absorbs everything he can about his sign and what it all means, taking it to heart like these web pages are the Holy Bible or Yamapi speaking right to him. He doesn’t stop at zodiacs, either—by the next time he checks the clock, at 4:30am, he knows all about being a water sign and a metal horse.

He’s looked up a lot of his groupmates, too, purely for comparison. Kitayama had been right, about himself anyway; he doesn’t fit the bill of a Virgo at all, but Miyata does, for the most part. Tamamori learns that Miyata is his opposite sign, which is an interesting relationship in its own. Usually opposite signs don’t get along very well, but these particular two do. Tamamori gets a lot of sappy love stuff when he tries to Google the two signs together, but he overlooks it for the important parts.

> A Virgo with a Pisces is a magnetic combination with strong attraction for each other. Though they are just opposite, still a silky thread binds them together beautifully in relationships they respect and cherish. They both have different styles and hence a lot to learn from each other. With love and compassion they can make almost all the relations to work for them smoothly.

Tamamori blinks. His first thought is the red thread of fate, which he’s never before associated with Miyata. Miyata is his friend. All of the love declarations and cute pairing stuff is all for fun. Tamamori doesn’t mind it at all, even though he pretends he does when other people are around. They don’t do anything like that when it’s just the two of them, anyway. It’s true that Miyata’s the one he’s closest to out of the whole group, and that Tamamori is Miyata’s most important person outside of his family. Tamamori just hasn’t stopped to think about what any of that means until it’s staring him in the face on his computer.

He tries to sleep, but he keeps seeing the two fish being pulled in opposite directions behind his eyes. One fish is in a net, being reeled toward the shore where a whole group of people wait with uchiwas, and the other wants to swim towards an island where Miyata is making sand angels on the beach. Virgo is an Earth sign, Tamamori remembers, but that’s the only part that makes sense. He doesn’t understand why swimming towards Miyata would be going against their fans, society, whatever the people are supposed to represent.

The sun is starting to rise by the time Tamamori finally drifts off. They have a late start today, but he already knows he’s going to be dragging ass more than usual from staying up all night.

“Internet-san, you are addictive!” Tamamori whines at his computer when his alarm goes off four hours later. He grumbles his way through breakfast (lunch) and his mother leaves him alone, though she stuffs some melon bread into his pocket before he leaves.

Work _sucks_. They’re learning a new routine and Kitayama’s smartass prediction comes true ten times over, leaving Tamamori’s entire body sore and bruised even with all of the safety padding. His mood gets worse, to the point where he’s crabbing more than Fujigaya and he’s fairly certain that everyone wants to punt him out the window, Miyata included.

The melon bread makes life a little more tolerable, even if Miyata looks wary as Tamamori approaches him during their break. “I didn’t sleep a lot last night,” he says. “It was my own fault and I’m paying for it now, but that’s why I’m so pissy.”

“It’s okay,” Miyata tells him, flashing his usual smile that makes Tamamori feel even better. “You want to come over and nap after this? Nobody’s at my house—they all took a family vacation. I was invited, of course, but as you know we have to work.”

Suddenly Tamamori remembers _Miyata’s_ horoscope and recognizes the evasive way that he’s speaking. “How long have they been gone?”

“Almost a week,” Miyata answers. “It’s really quiet. They’ll be back in a few days, though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tamamori asks. “I would have gone to stay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Miyata says dismissively. “I’m twenty-four years old, I can stay by myself.”

Tamamori frowns. “That’s not what I mean. It’s lonely being alone.”

He can see the words making an impact on Miyata’s face, but that’s all he gets. “It’s fine. I’ve actually gotten used to it. It’ll be an adjustment when everyone’s back.”

Now that he’s paying attention, Tamamori can see right through him, but he lets it be for the time being. Their break ends and Tamamori is marginally more pleasant for the rest of the session, which is thankfully a short one due to the late start. Tamamori nearly falls asleep on the train on the way back to Miyata’s house, and as promised there’s not a single sound to be heard.

“It’s eerily silent in here,” Tamamori mumbles, and Miyata grunts his agreement. “Can I sleep now? I’m ready to fall over.”

“Yeah, just sleep in my bed for now. I’ll use the futon tonight.”

Tamamori’s too tired to argue, and he’s pretty sure he’s asleep before his head even hits Miyata’s pillow. When he wakes in a _much_ better state of mind, the clock by the bed only reads 10pm, but he hears Miyata’s light snores from the floor. Tamamori rolls around to stretch and Miyata’s scent surrounds him, the citrus of his shampoo to the spice of his cologne, and it’s almost like Miyata’s there with him.

Quietly Tamamori crawls out of the bed and makes his way to the bathroom. He stays over so much that he has his own toiletries, travel-sized bottles of moisturizer and other specific things that he can’t just bum off of Miyata, and of course his own toothbrush. He feels considerably cleaner after he wipes the shitty day off of his face, then wonders if it would be rude to run a bath while Miyata’s sleeping. It doesn’t look like Miyata already had one; it’s possible that he just went to sleep because he was bored and figured Tamamori would wake him when he got up. Miyata’s not an early sleeper at all, and they have another late day tomorrow.

“Miyacchi~” he whispers as he tiptoes through the dark bedroom, trying to follow the sounds of Miyata’s snoring and not bump into anything. He finds the futon and the lump in it, flopping down next to him and poking the blanket. “Are you awake?”

“Mm,” Miyata mumbles, nonmoving, and Tamamori lifts the blanket to see his face. Miyata’s features are prominent in the dark, his bangs all over the place and his face completely relaxed. Tamamori reaches out to push the hair out of his eyes, frowning when it goes right back where it was, and he’s about to go steal a scrunchie from Miyata’s sister’s bathroom when fingers wrap lightly around his wrist.

“Miyacchi?” Tamamori asks, using a low voice like someone is around to hear them, and Miyata grunts again. “Can I have my hand back?”

Miyata doesn’t answer him, just holds Tamamori’s hand to his chest like it was a stuffed animal he was cuddling with, and Tamamori’s heart breaks a little. Clearly Miyata is so lonely that he latches onto anything that touches him, desperate for affection. It reminds Tamamori of his own horoscope, where his loved one is feeling down and hiding it, and Tamamori almost kicks himself for not noticing sooner. Miyata totally counts as a loved one.

Without a second thought, he wrestles his hand out of Miyata’s grip, lifts up his side of the blanket, and slips underneath it. Miyata whines in his sleep, but Tamamori just wraps both arms around him and holds him close, Miyata’s head fitting neatly under Tamamori’s chin. Miyata’s just as big as he is, but he doesn’t mind. Miyata burrows toward him, both hands clutching onto Tamamori’s shirt, and Tamamori smiles, pleased with making the right decision. Breathing in that citrus scent straight from the source, Tamamori brings up one hand to stroke Miyata’s hair, knowing how much he loves it himself when Miyata does it to him. It’s nice to be able to finally return the favor.

He can tell the exact second Miyata wakes up, because his heartbeat quickens and Tamamori fears that he’s having a nightmare until the snoring ceases. He doesn’t say anything, nor does he make any move to detach himself from Tamamori, just loosens his grip on Tamamori’s shirt. His next breath is sharp and fast like he’s scared, and on impulse Tamamori hugs him tighter.

Slowly Miyata lets go completely and wraps his arms around Tamamori in return, his own embrace quite strong for someone who just woken up. Tamamori closes his eyes and nudges his way onto the pillow; with as comfortable and safe as he feels right now, he could sleep for another cycle. He actually does fall asleep, because the next time he opens his eyes, Miyata’s no longer tucked away in his arms. He’s lying right next to him, close enough to feel his breath on his face with his eyes open and trained on Tamamori.

“Sorry,” Tamamori mumbles. “I meant to wake you up and I fell back asleep.”

“It’s okay,” Miyata tells him, his face unreadable. His breath is fresh, like he’d just brushed his teeth, and Tamamori marvels at the realization that Miyata had willingly returned to this same position after getting up. “Do you feel better?”

“Much.”

“I’m glad.”

Miyata makes no effort to move, and Tamamori doesn’t either. Even if they’re not squeezed together anymore, he still feels completely comfortable. His arm is slung loosely around Miyata’s waist and Miyata’s hand is on his shoulder, rubbing lightly as they lay.

“Do you believe in the red thread of fate?” Tamamori asks.

“I don’t believe in anything,” Miyata answers. “Things happen and there’s no rhyme or reason for it. It’s like what Kitamitsu said about horoscopes—they just give you a push to either make them come true or not.”

Tamamori thinks back on his dilemma when he’d first read about having a hard time at work. “That makes sense, but you don’t think there’s one person for everyone?”

“No,” Miyata says. “I think people make their own destiny. You choose whether to approach someone you don’t know, right? Even that whole scenario where the two people accidentally bump into each other, one of them has to actively initiate conversation or they’re just going to apologize and go their own separate ways.”

Stretching a little, Tamamori shifts on the pillow. “Don’t you think that’s a bit cynical?”

“Don’t you think things like fate are a bit unrealistic?” Miyata counters.

Tamamori bursts out laughing, barely bringing his hand to his mouth to keep from doing it right in Miyata’s face, and Miyata looks confused and a little offended until Tamamori calms down enough to speak. “This is exactly what the astrology guide said we would argue about.”

“Is it,” Miyata says flatly, leaning on his elbow to lift up his head as he looks down at Tamamori. “You looked up how our signs would act together?”

“There was a lot of clicking before I got there, but yes,” Tamamori admits.

“And what did it say?”

“We’re a magnetic combination with a strong attraction to each other,” Tamamori recites, and both of Miyata’s eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. “We’re the exact opposite, but we’re bound by a red thread when it comes to people we care about, or something.”

“You know, those compatibility descriptions are usually for lovers,” Miyata says.

“Same difference.” Tamamori shrugs. “It’s still the same interaction, minus the sex stuff.”

Miyata stares at him. “So you have a strong attraction to me?”

“Of course,” Tamamori answers easily. “I’m usually paying attention to you when we’re together and thinking about you when we’re not, because we’re close like that. In fact, my horoscope said that a loved one would feel down and pretend to hide it, and you totally did with this whole staying by yourself thing.”

“Tama-chan,” Miyata says slowly, “it’s not next month yet.”

That revelation seems to hit Tamamori pretty hard, nearly knocking his world off its axis, and he must have a completely dumbfounded look on his face because Miyata stifles his laughter. “But it said—”

“Don’t you see what happened?” Miyata asks gently. “You read that horoscope and molded your own future from it.” Tamamori must be frowning pretty hard, because Miyata’s hand is on his face gently rubbing his jaw. “It’s not a bad thing by any means. It’s good to be aware of things that could happen to you, because then you’ll already know how to react.”

“It’s impossible to be aware of everything all the time,” Tamamori challenges, feeling smug that they’re arguing in accordance to their respective zodiac signs again. “There’s no way you can be prepared for all of it.”

“When you think like me, you can,” Miyata refutes him. “I’ve probably considered it all by now. Sometimes all I do is sit and think ‘what would I do if X happened’.”

“You seriously know how you’re going to react to every single thing that could happen to you at any given time,” Tamamori says.

Miyata sets his jaw. “Yeah.”

It’s a gut instinct, one that Tamamori will look back on later and wonder where the hell it even came from; maybe it really _was_ the red thread of fate that had him grabbing Miyata by the face and pressing their lips together. He feels Miyata inhale sharply through his nose, but Tamamori holds out for five entire seconds before pulling back and giving Miyata a haughty look. “React to _that_.”

Miyata stares at him for so long that Tamamori rolls over onto his back, smiling victoriously while Miyata makes no move to pick his brain up off the floor. Tamamori tries to ignore the way his lips still tingle more than any time he’s ever kissed a girl, though the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he wasn’t really interested in any of those girls. He’d rather hang out with Miyata then take out a girl any day.

He expects Miyata to say something, so he’s completely taken aback when Miyata leans over him and kisses him again, making no move to let up after five seconds, ten, fifteen…Tamamori loses count around that time, content with the feeling of Miyata’s lips slowly moving against his in a series of tiny kisses that cover the entire surface of his lips several times over.

Tamamori kisses back, his hand sliding up Miyata’s arm, shoulder, and neck, cupping his face. Miyata gasps at the touch and Tamamori’s tongue flicks the gap between his lips like it has a mind of his own, because Tamamori certainly didn’t tell it to. It’s met by Miyata’s and more than welcomed into Miyata’s mouth, though, so Tamamori can’t be that upset at it. Maybe the rest of his body will start moving on its own so that he doesn’t have to make those decisions himself. It seems much easier this way.

It feels like an eternity before Miyata pulls away, and Tamamori still feels him on his lips though they’re far enough apart for Miyata to meet his eyes. “What does this mean?” he asks.

“See, that’s the difference between you and me,” Tamamori says, a little breathless from such a mind-blowing kiss. “You want to know what it means, and I just accept that it means something.”

“Are you really okay with that?” Miyata asks, incredulous. “Don’t you want to understand what’s happening here?”

“If we’re really bound by the red thread of fate,” Tamamori says, “it will all work itself out.”

Miyata sighs. “Whatever justifies it for you.”

And then he’s back in Tamamori’s mouth, kissing him deeply and claiming the next few minutes of Tamamori’s life. They return to their prior position, arms wrapped tightly around each other as they explore each other’s mouths, and it’s Miyata who ends it again, though it takes him a few tries to actually leave Tamamori’s lips.

“For the record,” he says, “I have thought about what I would do if you ever kissed me, I just never thought it would happen.”

“Whatever justifies it for you,” Tamamori shoots back, and Miyata kisses the smirk off his mouth.

> the first of the next month

“You know, it kind of takes the thrill out of it if we have to schedule when we’re going to have sex,” Tamamori says as they walk to his house from the train station.

“There are a lot of things to take into consideration, Tama-chan,” Miyata tells him. “Whether we have to work the next day, whose parents are home, do we have everything we need.”

Tamamori eyes him as they walk a little quicker than normal. “Are you nervous?”

“Of course I’m nervous,” Miyata answers, gaping at him. “It’s our first time together.”

Tamamori sneaks his hand into Miyata’s pocket to grab onto his. “It’ll be fine.”

“Have you even done this before?” Miyata hisses. “With a man.”

“You know I haven’t,” Tamamori replies. “I’m sure I would have told you if I did.”

Miyata squeezes his hand tightly and Tamamori uses his other hand to grasp onto his arm. “I just don’t want to mess anything up.”

“Miyacchi, _relax_ ,” Tamamori tells him. “Stop worrying and just focus on how it feels, okay?”

A cloud of white forms in front of them from Miyata’s deep breath. “Okay.”

They get back to Tamamori’s house, where his parents are out of town for the night, and Miyata starts shaking the minute they close Tamamori’s bedroom door. Tamamori instantly grabs him by the face, presses their mouths together, and his body starts making the movement decisions for him again, only this time they include reacting to Miyata’s touch.

After the first couple seconds of Miyata’s hands roaming his body, slow and strong like he’s trying to map every bump and crevice to memory, Tamamori no longer understands how he went so long without feeling this. Everywhere Miyata touches him sparks, even random places like his kneecap or the back of his hand. He does his share of touching as well, Miyata’s skin hot under his fingertips, shuddering when he finds a good spot.

It just kind of happens, their clothes disappearing and Miyata swirling lubricated fingers between his legs without stopping to talk about it, and Tamamori feels like he won this time. Miyata is totally following his senses and not trying to analyze everything, letting what happens happen and just reveling in the brand new sensations they’re both experiencing for the first time, together. It’s a victory for Pisces everywhere, though Tamamori’s not quick to brag. For all he knows, Miyata memorized every “how to have gay sex” website on the Internet and is repeating directions over and over in his mind as they do it.

Regardless, the look Miyata gives him before they unite needs no explanation; Tamamori’s still not sure if Miyata’s really holding the other end of his red thread, but he’s not that concerned about it. Particularly right now as Miyata moves inside him, stimulating places he didn’t know existed, moaning his name softly and giving himself completely to Tamamori while Tamamori does the same.

Afterwards, when they’re soaking in the bath together and Miyata’s rubbing Tamamori’s sore thighs, Tamamori remembers what day it is and laughs.

“What?” Miyata asks, too sated to be concerned about much right now.

“It’s the first of the month,” Tamamori declares. “Our horoscopes start today.”

“Well, mine couldn’t be more wrong,” Miyata says. “Though I suppose I could be alone and withdrawn later on in the month.”

“Not if I can help it,” Tamamori replies, and he pulls Miyata in for a kiss, thinking that maybe, just maybe, horoscopes weren’t that reliable after all.

The red thread of fate, though, that’s definitely real.


End file.
